


Inhaled You

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Series: Exquisite Red [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannibalism, Feeding Kink, Implied/Referenced Underage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Urges are hard to suppress, no matter what they are. Dean wants too many things, so he only chooses to indulge one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhaled You

“Smells weird, Dean,” Sam says, wrinkling his nose. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” 

 

Dean’s hands tremble as he flips the meat in the pan over. He tries to hide his shaking by gripping the pan and tongs tighter, knuckles going white from his grip. Thankfully, Sam wanders off to the living room, stretching out on the ratty sofa to watch TV while Dean makes supper. 

 

The rice sticks a little to the pan, but at least it’s not crunchy between Dean’s teeth like the last time he tried. He plates it and the meat up with canned beans, carrying them out to the living room to eat with Sam. As much as he tries to keep his eyes on the TV instead of on his brother, Dean finds his gaze drifting to Sam. 

 

Despite his complaints about the smell, Sam clears his plate readily; he’s been eating more and more the older he gets, all that food stretching out into long limbs and youthful muscle. There are still hints of baby fat still clinging to his face and body, but Dean can see what his brother’s gonna look like in a couple years. He shouldn’t think Sam’s going to be gorgeous, but he is. 

 

“Quit lookin’ at me,” Sam grumbles, leaning over to drop his plate on the coffee table. He balls himself up against the arm of the couch and falls asleep by the time Dean’s taken their plates to the sink. Dean takes the opportunity to sneak upstairs, fisting his cock roughly over the toilet and blinking back the tears that gather when he comes. The shaking is stronger as he washes his hands, water scalding hot even though he knows it won’t do anything to wash away what’s dirty in him. 

 

* * *

 

Most of the bodies they encounter aren’t . . . suitable for Dean’s needs. They’re either musty corpses or tainted by whatever creature did them in. The most tempting ones are the ones left by vamps and shifters since those are the least damaged, but he usually ends up settling for those who’ve been ripped apart since no one will miss a piece here and there. Sneaking it past Dad and Sam is the hardest part, and that cuts the number of times Dean can indulge down greatly. 

 

He’s not sure when he crossed the line between being used to death and  _ this. _ Trimming away the largest piece he dares to take that will still fit in the ziploc baggie in his pocket before Dad comes back from checking the upstairs. Dean’s just managed to stuff it in his pocket when he hears the thud of boots, and he manages to wipe his knife and fingers clean before his dad walks back into the kitchen. 

 

The werewolf they’d been tailing is nowhere to be found, the trail disappearing midway through the thicket of trees behind the house. Dad swears under his breath, leading Dean back to the Impala. Sammy’s dozing on the brothers’ bed, sitting up dazedly when the two men stumble in. No one says much as they strip down, and Dean finds himself fighting sleep as he waits for Dad and Sam to drop off. He sneaks out of bed once their breathing goes even and deep, carefully fishing the baggie out of his jacket pocket and sneaking into the bathroom. Truthfully, Dean doesn’t know if the rawness is an issue, but it’s not like he can cook it every time; besides, it hasn’t made him sick yet. 

 

Making sure the door is locked - as much good as a locked door would do if Sam or Dad really wanted in - Dean perches on the closed toilet lid, baggie cradled in his fingers. Dean’s grateful that it didn’t take them long to get back and that this won’t go to waste. He opens the bag carefully, even the quietest crinkling loud to his ears in the silence of the motel room. A tiny whimper tears out of his mouth when he plucks the meat out, and he’s rock hard by the time he gets the first bite down. It’s only a couple of mouthfuls, but it leaves him shaking and wet in his boxers. 

 

Tucking soiled fabric and the bloody bag into his duffel, Dean clambers back into bed with Sam. It’s hard to sleep after sometimes, because Sammy’s so sweet and clean as he sleeps, and Dean doesn’t feel like he should be anywhere near his baby brother. Tonight isn’t one of those nights, though. Tonight, he burrows under the blankets, letting Sam’s body heat soothe his shivers and sleeps like the dead. 

 


End file.
